


How to Tie a Tie (Four Easy Lessons)

by harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Doug Eiffel: fandom bicycle, F/M, Gen, M/M, bonus POV/tense/stylistic changes with every chapter because why not, pure fluff, unconnected one-shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:11:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doug Eiffel is a man of many talents. Tying ties is not one of them. </p><p>Luckily, he has friends who are willing to lend a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hera

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter of this is meant to serve as a standalone, though arguably this chapter and chapter 3 fit together. Eh, I leave it up to the interpretation of the reader.

"I can’t. I can’t do this."

"Shhh, yes, yes you can, Eiffel." 

"No I can't. And why does it even matter if I do? No one is going to care what I have to say." 

_"Everyone_ is going to care. Trust me, Eiffel. This case against Goddard is already a huge scandal and the trial has just started. Everyone will listen to you, you're incredibly important in all this." 

"Oh gee, thanks babe. That makes me feel _so much_ better about going out there and telling the whole world how Doug Eiffel, experimental meatbag to the literal stars, failed to do the one thing he was sent to space to do." 

"Stop it, Doug. Please. Just...take a deep breath. Drink some water. And hold still so I can fix your tie. It's a mess." 

"Yeah, I've never been any good at tying 'em. Sorry to dump all that on you, darlin'. I know this is rough for you too, on top of all the other adjustments you're dealing with. Last thing you need is a big weepy ball of spaceman-shaped angst dropping into your newly tangible lap." 

"Well, taking care of you has _always_ been part of my job. That hasn't changed. Also, you're my friend and I love you, so there's two more reasons. And there - your tie looks perfect." 

"Thank you, darlin'. For everything. And..." 

"Yes, Officer Eiffel?" 

"I love you too."


	2. Koudelka

"Ugh, I hate these things." Eiffel squirmed and fiddled with his tie. Dominik laughed without looking away from the hotel bathroom's mirror.

"So say we all, man, but that's the cost of doing business with the kind of people who can help you take down evil international corporations - you've gotta play nice at a few black-tie galas." 

Doug sighed. "No not- well, _yes_ , that too. But I was talking about the tie." 

Dominik turned around to find the other man staring mournfully at the slightly crumpled piece of black silk around his neck. 

"Do you really not know how to tie a bow tie, Doug?" 

"Do I really look like the kind of guy who has ever _needed_ to know how to tie a bow tie, Dom? Not all of us were jet-setting, James-Bond-adventure-having international men of mystery before we became headline news." 

Dominik stared at him incredulously for a second before cracking up laughing. "You really have no idea what I do for a living, do you." 

Eiffel shrugged, his earlier embarrassment fading from his cheeks. "I do, but the life I've imagined for you in my head is way more exciting." 

"Fair enough. Hold still, Doug." 

"Dom, if you wanted to get all up close and personal with me, all you had to do was ask." Eiffel's tone was light but his eyes were wary as the other man moved to stand right in front of him, nearly touching. 

Dominik went to work salvaging Doug's tie. Keeping his eyes on his task he said, casually, "Well my wife _did_ try to tell you exactly that but I'm told you didn’t quite believe her. You should, you know. We wouldn't offer that sort of thing lightly." 

Tie fixed, he met Doug's astonished gaze squarely. "I mean, if you're not interested then obviously that's perfectly alright. Not trying to pressure you. But I want you to know that the offer is sincerely meant and always open. We love you, Doug. Me and Renée both. I hope you know that." 

"Dom, I..." Doug seemed to hunt for words for a moment before - "Oh screw it." He leaned forward and kissed the other man, trying to say with the gesture what he couldn't articulate in words. 

When the two men entered the hotel ballroom twenty minutes later, an impatient Renée Minkowski took one look at them and rolled her eyes. "Took him long enough," she muttered, smiling at the sight. Excusing herself, she made her way across the crowded room to join her (slightly rumpled, very happy) men.


	3. Minkowski

"Do I look okay?" he asked me for approximately the forty-fifth time in nearly as many minutes.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Eiffel, you ridiculous peacock of a man. You look splendid. Dapper. Like the proverbial million bucks...except for the fact that now your tied isn't tied right. So hold still, let me fix it, and _please_ stop fidgeting before I untie it completely and _gag you with it."_

"Yes sir," he said meekly. I started to fix the sky blue necktie hanging limply down the front of his shirt, happy that he'd finally stopped fluttering around. That ended nearly as quickly as it had begun as I heard him mutter, "Man, you're the bossiest best man _ever_." 

I jerked the knot of the tie extra tight around his neck and was satisfied to hear him yelp. 

"Whoops!" I said, sweetly, smiling up at him. "Sorry about that, Eiffel." 

His clothes all in order, I checked the time. T-minus five minutes until Doug Eiffel would be underway to becoming a married man. 

I think he saw me check the time because he tensed. 

"But what if --" 

I cut him off by pushing him into a chair. Leaving my hands on his shoulders, I stared levelly at him. "Okay. This is the last time I'm going to say this Doug, so listen and listen good. Yes, you're doing the right thing. No, Hera wouldn’t rather marry 'some nice cyborg boy or girl,' she wants to marry _you_ , for reasons that are becoming _increasingly unfathomable_ to me. Yes, you'll make her happy, yes, she loves you, and yes, for the millionth time, _you look fine._ " 

Pausing for breath, I realized he was grinning. 

"What?" 

"Thanks, boss. That was exactly what I needed." He stood up and pulled me into a tight hug. "What would I do without you to keep me in line?" he asked rhetorically and damn it, I was _not_ going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Nope. 

"It doesn't bear thinking about, Eiffel," I told him, muffled slightly against his shirt front. Disentangling us, I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Now let's go get you married."


	4. Lovelace

You jump at the knock on the door. She's early. Shit. You pause the less-than-helpful YouTube video you'd been consulting and hurry to answer it.

The sight on the other side takes your breath away and you're aware that you're staring but you can’t help it. 

Isabel Lovelace is standing on your welcome mat, wearing an immaculately tailored black suit, the jacket buttoned over a white silk blouse with a neckline that's going to haunt your dreams for at least 6 months. She's taller than you tonight, helped out by sky-high stiletto heels. Her hair is a mass of soft curls that you suddenly want nothing more than to bury your fingers in - except then you'd probably mess up some process that took her like, _hours_ to complete. And if you pay too close attention to the deep red lipstick on her (incredibly full, gorgeous, _how the hell had you never really noticed them before tonight?)_ lips, you think you may never want to look at anything else ever again. 

"Uh," you begin, oh-so-eloquently. "Hi. Wow. Hi." 

She snorts and walks in, passing you with a whiff of perfume. You're 99% sure that, in her wake, you turn into cartoon character drifting after her, led by the nose. Holy shit. When she'd asked you as her date to this costume party, you hadn't expected _this._

"You look...I mean, wow, you --" 

She rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers in your face a few times. "Earth to Doug Eiffel, please come back to us." 

You feel the heat rising in your cheeks. "Sorry! Isabel, sorry, I just turned into a sixteen-year-old boy there for a second. I'm back." 

"Doug, I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but there are not a lot of differences between _normal_ you and a sixteen-year-old boy." 

Ouch. "Fair." 

"So, you ready to go?" 

You grin, hands going to your tie. "Almost. I'm starting to think this thing is a lost cause though. Can James Bond be seen in public with his tie untied? Is that, like, rumpled and sexy or a terrible faux pas?" 

You're startled when she cracks up laughing. "Oh Doug, you're adorable." 

You chuckle baffledly. "Not that I don't appreciate the compliment but...what did I do?" 

She delicately wipes her eyes, smoky eye makeup still flawless. "You think that _you're_ dressed as James Bond?" 

Now you're thoroughly confused. Stepping closer, you gesture at your tux. "Uh, yeah? You asked me if I had any good pair costume ideas that didn't involve anything too weird? I suggested Bond and Bond girl, you said yes? If that's not who we're going as, why am I in a tux? And come to think of it, why are _you_ wearing an admittedly stunning suit? And oh god, I'm the Bond girl aren't I." 

Sinking to the couch, you drop your head in your hands, helplessly overtaken with giggles. Through your mirth, you manage to squeak out, "Really should have seen this one coming." 

Isabel strides over and kneels in front of you and hello, you're paying attention again, the giggles are gone. Reaching up, she unties the headway you'd made on your tie. 

"I think untied is fine," she says, smiling enigmatically. Holding the ends of it, she pulls you in close and yup, this is it, best moment of your life. Lips hovering a breath away from yours, she says, "And close your mouth, Eiffel. You look like a goldfish." 

Letting go of your tie, she rises gracefully to her feet and heads for the door. You gulp, pray to every god you can think of (and a few you've just made up) not to let you say something too irredeemably stupid, and follow her outside.


End file.
